Don't Tell Me Truth Hurts
by SomberBallad
Summary: Harry, Hermione, and Ron must find their way in the new world after Voldemort's death. They've all changed and must learn how to cope with themselves. H/Hr one-shot with mentions of R/Hr and H/G. AU


_A/N: The song lyrics are from the song "Underground" by David Bowie from the Labyrinth Soundtrack. I don't own the song or its lyrics just like I don't own Harry Potter or anything involving his world. I just wanted to make that clear._

_It's only forever _

_Not long at all_

_Lost and lonely_

Rain beat against the windowpane of the Gryffindor common room. Hermione stared at the droplets stuck on the window, running her fingers over the cold glass, outlining them. It felt like the three of them were going to sit there forever. They were the last ones left in the tower, maybe even in the whole school. After the defeat of the Dark Lord, Hogwarts was let out in celebration, without finals, two months early. The entire Wizarding world was in a constant state of celebration – at least they had been for the last forty-eight hours. Things hadn't been this hopeful since the night Harry received the well-known scar on his forehead.

Yet the infamous trio sat in separate corners of the Gryffindor common room not celebrating because none of them were happy. In their seventeen and eighteen years of life, they had seen more brutality, death, and suffering than they would ever see again in the entirety of their lives. They had all changed in the course of seven years, but more significantly in the course of seven months.

Harry hadn't spoken to anyone since his mouth had uttered the words that had destroyed Voldemort's last Horcrux. Harry had an angry glint in his eye, the same glint he had for the last seven months while he was searching for the Horcruxes. Some said that he had held on to that anger for so long that he couldn't get rid of it, others suspected that he couldn't stomach the murder of Voldemort, and others said it was because Voldemort had killed his one true love, Ginny Weasley.

Ron had never been cut out for war. He wasn't brave, he wasn't intelligent – all he had was heart and now even that was gone. He had supported Harry and Hermione as they found the Horcruxes and he watched them change, knowing there was nothing he could do. He watched his best friend and the girl he loved change into people he hardly recognized. His mind told him that he loved them both, but his heart didn't understand anymore. He couldn't believe that there was any love left in the world after the death of his fellow Gryffindors, his fellow classmates, his own sister and brothers. Ron wasn't cut out to live after war.

Hermione couldn't bear the silence. She felt her mind and her heart were going to explode. She was afraid that this seven-month adventure had broken the trio in more ways than one. They had accomplished more than most adult wizards would dream of in a lifetime, and yet she knew that when they walked out that door, the world of uncertainty would become real. At least sitting here in the common room they were familiar with their old home and at least the old faces, if not the people behind them. They had changed, but her heart broke for her old friends no matter how different they were. Hermione couldn't bear to see Harry bottled up and Ron dying inside. She knew Ron would get better with time, and she knew he would try to heal her. After all, she was broken too. However, the thing that scared her the most was what would happen to Harry. Would he speak again? Would he speak to her if she asked? They had been through so much, she wondered if they had passed the point of no return. Hermione needed words and false promises. Hermione needed someone to break the silence.

_No one can blame you_

_For walking away_

_Too much rejection_

_No love injection_

Hermione thought she loved him. After all, he was always there, he had always loved her. So she loved him, or at least she thought she did. No one was shocked to see she was engaged or surprised to hear that Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were getting married. Everyone expected it; everyone else knew she was in love so she figured it was right. Besides, he promised her a new life, a life away from the Wizarding world. They would never have to spend another day reliving the horror that magic had caused, the horror which haunted their adolescence. She could finally return to a Muggle way of life, as her childhood had been, and she had a lovely childhood.

They bought a house in the mountains; she had managed to scrape a job as an English tutor in the nearest city and for now, that would suffice for their income. After all, there had been royalties for helping to save the Wizarding world.

There was one person who didn't approve of their marriage, one person who didn't believe they were in love – Harry Potter. He didn't even come to the wedding; he said he was too disgusted that they chose the easy way out. Hermione didn't understand what he meant, but she was heartbroken he didn't come. She still maintained their close relationship, but only when it did not involve Ron. As much as she loved Harry, it hurt her to see him still so firmly entangled in the world of magic. She almost felt sorry for him. She was free, while he was still stuck in the mess of the Wizarding world.

Since she had started over, maybe her mental and emotional scars could hear now that magic was done poisoning them.

There had been a time when Hermione loved magic more than anything. Now it seemed cruel and unforgiving. Its dark uses seemed to significantly outweigh its worth. Magic had destroyed something in her life, and while she couldn't put her finger on what that was, she knew magic was to blame and it hurt her.

However, Ron loved her. That's what he said.

Yet somehow she wasn't surprised to find out that he had been seeing Miranda Ramey after their three years of marriage. However, Hermione knew that Ron didn't fall for the tall raven-haired beauty from Ravenclaw because of her looks. He was long past that stage of his life. It was Miranda's innocence, her sweetness that attracted Ron. Miranda was just so many things that Hermione was not; Miranda had not been affected by the war. She actually wasn't mad at Ron; she was happy for him, happy he could find someone who could finally complete what he lost in the war. She had known for a long time that she couldn't do that for him.

"Hermione, I will always love you, but you aren't the same person you were when I fell in love with you. We rushed into this thinking we could pick up where we left off but we both changed, and things just couldn't be the same," Ron told her as he held her hands and she cried, though she wasn't sure why. She knew he was right, and it made her feel sorry for herself.

Harry had been right all along.

_Life can be easy_

_It's not always swell_

_Don't tell me truth hurts, little girl_

'_Cause it hurts like hell_

Before winter had fully settled, Harry had helped her find an apartment in the city, back in the real world. It had been over three years since she had lived in a community of some kind. She had been so isolated in the mountains; it was an adjustment being around so many people again. As a thank you to Harry for helping her move, she invited him over to dinner.

She had just sat down after putting the plates of spaghetti on the table when Harry walked in with the bread he had offered to get from the store.

"I also got some wine," he said as he pulled it out of the bag with the bread. She looked at him skeptically. "You can't have spaghetti without wine," he insisted as he rummaged around the moving boxes for some glasses. Unable to find wine glasses, he pulled some juice glasses out of a box on the counter in the kitchen. He poured the red wine into the glasses and handed one to Hermione before sitting down.

"What should be toast to?" Harry asked, staring at her intently.

Hermione hesitated before answering him with the first cliché that came to her mind. "To new beginnings."

"To breaking off bad habits," Harry responded darkly, raising his glass and then taking a sip. Hermione stared at him, thinking it was awfully bold of him to be raising such subjects during such a difficult time for her.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Harry found it appropriate to stir up the waters again.

"You're taking this all rather well, Hermione."

"Well, it was for the best," she replied, twirling noodles around her fork.

"Yes, I don't suppose that house was big enough for you, Ron _and_ Miranda," he responded bitterly.

"For heaven's sake, Harry, what do you want me to say, that you were right?" Her fork clattered loudly against the plate as she set it down. She looked down and fiddled with her napkin as she conceded to Harry. "No, Ron didn't love me, but our marriage was my mistake alone. I shouldn't have made him believe I was his only option, that he had to save me."

"Strangely enough, I don't believe any of that," muttered Harry taking another sip of wine.

"Then what do you believe, Harry? Because it's quite obvious you have something to say to me, so just say it! You are being so childish, just dancing around the topic."

He didn't respond, but just raised his eyebrow and smirked at her with a wicked grin like he knew something she didn't. This infuriated her; he was acting like an infant.

"I didn't marry Ron because it was easy, Harry," she responded angrily, trying to read his devilish smirk.

"Then why did you marry him?"

"Because I loved him, Harry. That is why people get married!"

"You loved me too and that never seemed to cross your mind. Why _is _that?" Harry stood up, pacing around the table with a sarcastic air as he spoke. "Is it possibly because I wouldn't have let you run away from the Wizarding world because it seemed to have an uncertain future? Or is it because you were tired of dealing with Harry Potter and his grand adventures? Or maybe it was because everyone else told you that you should marry Ron."

"How dare you!" she said in a calm deadly sort of voice. "It was never _easy_ marrying Ron because I loved _you_ more. But it was _you_ who made me sit in silence, _you_ who shut me out after you defeated Voldemort,_ you_ who couldn't move on from Ginny's death. You wouldn't let me love you, Harry. I wanted something normal. I didn't want to fight any more wars, especially not against you."

"So you gave up," replied Harry coldly.

"Harry, I had nothing left to give you," replied Hermione helplessly, feeling what she felt that day in the Gryffindor common room. She stood up and walked over to the sink to stare out the window. All of a sudden, she felt trapped – trapped in a past that could not be changed and trapped in a present that had been the same for too long. "I wanted to save you, Harry, but I couldn't anymore. I couldn't even save myself. Ron tried, and I wanted him to, but look at me... everything is still the same after all these years. I'm still so empty."

She turned around to look at him, the pain showing on her face as the truth invaded the lie she had been living. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't know what to do. I was scared and Ron said he would protect me. I'm so sorry."

"I just need to know the truth," murmured Harry as he walked towards her and put his arms around her. Hermione lay her head on his chest as they both stood in her kitchen. Eventually, she looked up at him, her eyes communicating the same need he felt for her, the same need he had felt for so many years, though there were times it was hidden deep within his heart.

In a sudden motion he swept her head up towards his and kissed her lips. He only wondered if this was a mistake for a moment before she snaked her arms around the back of his neck, and leaned up into his kiss. His hands moved around to her back, pulling her as close to him as she would get. He broke the kiss off but Hermione just leaned in to catch his lips again, parting her lips slightly so he could get a taste of her mouth. Her hands moved towards his outer robes as she pushed him gently down the short hallway. By the time they had gotten down the hallway to the bedroom, Harry's robes were off and three of the buttons on Hermione's blouse were undone so Harry could see just the top of her pale breasts. There was a slight thud as his back hit the wall from the weight of her pressing against him. Harry broke away from her to look at her earnestly.

"Hermione, are you sure about this?"

"Yes, we've waited too long already," she assured him, putting her arm on his shoulder. "Now..."

The rest of the words were lost in the inside of his mouth as he stole her lips again.

_But down in the underground_

_You'll find someone true_

_Down in the underground_

_A land serene_

_A crystal moon, ah, ah_

Hermione awoke to find her hand in Harry's. There was a think pink blanket covering their nakedness. She realized Harry must have grabbed the blanket from one of the nearby boxes because in the course of their moving in yesterday, she hadn't had time to put sheets on the bed. She slipped her hand out of his as she got up from the bed to find some clothes to put on. She found an old set of midnight blue robes in one of the nearest boxes, so she pulled them on. When she turned back to look at Harry on the bed, he had rolled over to face her and he looked like he was fighting the urge to wake up from all the rummaging noises she was making. She smiled and laid back down on the bed, her hand on her stomach as she stared at the ceiling, thinking. Without her noticing, Harry's hand had slipped back into hers. As she looked down and noticed it, she squeezed it gently. It was a few minutes before he reacted.

"You get up too early," he moaned as he turned on his side to look at her.

"I'm just thinking. You don't have to get up," she replied.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked groggily, still waking up.

"This," she said, raising their hands up together as a visual."Us. Can we really do this, Harry? After all this time? After the war? After everything?"

"Do you think we can?" he asked, those intense green eyes scanning her worried face.

"It's what I've wanted for a long time but I've changed, Harry, we both have. That is what scared Ron away. I would die if I lost you too – again," she replied. "There has been so much loss and pain and now the war is over! How do you pick up a normal life after everything we've been through, Harry? How do you stop yourself from going insane day after day? Don't the memories haunt you?"

Harry let out a sigh and shifted his body a little uncomfortably; there was a long silence before he answered. His voice was low and reflective with a seriousness that demanded her attention. "Before the last battle, I promised myself I wouldn't let anything happen to you or any of Ron's family. You guys were the only people I had left and after finding Remus beaten the way he was, I just couldn't take the death anymore. When Ginny died that day I didn't know what to do with myself. I felt like I was incomplete because I couldn't protect her. The reason I didn't speak after I killed Voldemort is because I sat there reliving that day over and over again, thinking about what I could have done that would have saved her and the twins."

He paused as if reliving the moments in his mind; Hermione remained silent to let him finish. "It is because I wouldn't live in the present that I lost you and that I let you and Ron make the biggest mistake of both of your lives. I couldn't fix what happened to Ginny or Remus or Sirius or the twins, but I could live. Think about it, Hermione. We both lived, yet for so long we haven't really been living. You told me during our fifth year, before we went to the Department of Mysteries, that while I would never love you, I would always need you. You were wrong, though, and don't think I didn't take note." He grinned as he said that and Hermione blushed. "I do need you, and I need you to help me keep living, and that is why I love you."

Hermione smiled, blinking away tears that had watered her eyes. "You will be the one to save me after all, Harry Potter," she said, kissing his forehead.

"We're going to live, Hermione," he said, putting his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. She tucked her head under his chin and he rested on top of her masses of frizzy hair. They fell asleep again, not to nightmares of an unpreventable past, but to dreams of an unwritten future.


End file.
